Villains Never Win
by Jim Carnival
Summary: Duckula XV often wondered how his life would look written between the gilded covers of a fairytale book. ჯ One-shot.


**Note:** The Duckula in this minific is the fifteenth, not the current. Not much context is needed for this one, but the story is that he's the typical evil Duckula, and ends up in the "forbidden love" relationship with Goosewing's ancestor Branta. He gets coddled by Branta's kids, Cedar and Giselle, and although he tries his best to push past his vampire nature, he's always still held back.

* * *

The typical fairytale, no matter how full of seemingly irresolvable problems and obstacles, never fails to end with a cotton-candy swirl of "happily-ever-after." The princess is carried away by the knight, the evil is conquered, the castle still stands, and the sun sets on a rosy scene of contentment and peace.

Duckula XV had learned a lot about fairytales after having read them to two children for so long. The memory seemed hazy, but he had spent countless nights perched on a three-legged stool beside the bed with a book of fairytales in his lap.

Whenever he had read them, he found himself more absorbed in the story than both Cedar and Giselle had ever been. The two of them had grown up hearing the soft and romanticized tales of courage and true love and heroic sacrifices, and the charm had been dulled by repetition. But to Duckula, who had experienced nothing outside of darkness and deceit and haunting and prowling, the stories of tender love and bravery were fascinating.

He had spent hours poring over the watercolor illustrations of princesses in flowing pink gowns and gallant knights encased in armor. The damsels were always fair and gentle, and the princes and knights and archers were always handsome and kindly, and the villains were always ugly, snarling, and frightening. The villains never lived. They were never reformed, or loved, or given a second chance. They were black inside, heartless and hated, and once they fell were never missed.

When Duckula was alone he often pondered how his life would be written if it were between the gilded covers of a fairytale book.

Branta was the knight. The brave one, the one who rushed into the castle wielding a sword, ready to dash to pieces any threat to what he cherished. Branta would battle the villain in cunning and protect his family from any imposing harm.

Giselle was the cheeky young princess who would grow into someone like her mother. Cedar was the boy with hidden capabilities that lent an eerie sense to his reserved and soft demeanor.

Duckula sometimes wished he could trade places with any of them. But he wasn't a knight or brave prince or a chosen one—he was the villain. The one destined to die at the hand of the hero, the vile one with no redeeming qualities to deserve a second chance. The one who had spent his life shackled by bloodthirst and bitterness. The one who, when vanquished, wouldn't be missed or longed for or remembered.

Realizing this left a perpetual cloud over his mood. It dampened his demeanor, leaving him quieter and more scarce and unhappy than ever. He felt as though he were balancing on a precarious rope, and each day was one step closer to reaching a fray that would snap and give way. If life was like a fairytale, and Duckula played the villain, there was no hope for a future of security and safety—or for tender love like that between the princess and her hero. The villain had no hero. Nobody ever spared the villain. If they did, it was only out of naiveté. But the villain always betrayed them and scoffed at their second chance, proving the lack of goodness in their hearts and proving they had deserved the threat of death.

Duckula was frightened. He had been raised to feed off the idea of destiny. His destiny was to be a vampire who kicked against the world until his very last. His destiny had always relieved him of guilt. How could he be ashamed of his nature when he was simply destined to hunt and rob and kill?

But now, destiny terrified him. How could he _overcome_ his nature when he was destined to hunt and rob and kill? Villains betrayed. Villains lost the battle to themselves. Villains never won.

It was only a matter of time before he proved it.


End file.
